


Black Eyes, Black Dreams

by rmm55



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling, M/M, Mark of Cain, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-01 13:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2775200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rmm55/pseuds/rmm55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's impossible to shake the dreams, the utter hopelessness that comes from knowing he was a demon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ***SPOILERS FOR SEASON TEN***
> 
> Day 4: Salt

_He's standing over their bodies - Sam's and Cas's. Cas's wings are unfurled, broken and bleeding and half covering Sam, protecting him. Dean's name is on Cas's lips - and it's his fault that any of this happened, that these two are dead. Unclenches his hand and lets the knife drop to the floor. His head's not that clear, yet, but his arm is burning like it's been set on fire. Doesn't take a genius to guess what that means. Turns, slowly - as if to leave, though he isn't sure he'll ever be able to leave these two - and he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror._

_Black eyes._

He nearly falls out of bed with how fast he sits up. He's gasping like he's just run a marathon, and his heart's slamming in his chest. Stumbles, almost falls, out of bed and staggers across the room. Shoves his entire hand into the jar of salt on the table and waits for the burn.

It doesn't come.

Slower, now, he turns toward the mirror. Looks down at first - what is he going to do, if he sees black eyes? - but he can't put it off forever. Looks up -

And falls to his knees. There are tears in his eyes, and he can't even bring himself to care. He's too relieved, to _grateful_ , to be ashamed. His eyes aren't black. He's not a demon.

 

Cas finds him, a few hours later, ringed in salt.

There's the telltale _whoosh_ of wings, and then Cas is perched on the edge of the bed, staring at him with some strange mixture of confusion and concern.

"Dean? Is something wrong?"

He starts - he may have been dozing, just a little - and shakes his head. Clears his throat. "No, I - why would you think something's wrong?"

"You're sleeping in a salt circle and there's a demon trap painted on the ceiling."

Looks up - _fuck_ , he doesn't remember putting that there, _how did it get there_ \- and swallows. "I -"

Cas takes a step across the circle and lifts Dean up until he's standing. Tries to stand on his own - but his knees are weak and he nearly falls, so Cas holds him up by his elbows and stares into his eyes, searching for something.

"Was it . . . a nightmare?"

Nods mutely. Cas stares at him for a long moment - and then pulls him outside of the circle, outside of the demon trap. Dean's gone rigid, waiting for the inevitable to happen - for his eyes to turn black, for the mark to take over, for him to _hurt_ Cas -

"Your eyes are fine, Dean. There's no black."

And - that's it. That's _exactly_ what he needed to hear. Sags against Cas and just lets himself be held up. Cas tugs him over to the bed and helps him lay down and then - and then _gets in bed with him_.

Dean's not drunk enough for this.

Cas rolls onto his side and stares at Dean again, and it's a little unsettling. Cas always seems to see right through him, right through all the defenses Dean's built up over the years, and Dean doesn't like it. Wants to go back to how it was before all of this happened - Cas oblivious, Sam innocent, Dad _alive_.

"Dean. You can talk to me."

He's so fucking earnest, and it tears at Dean's heart.

"It's nothing, Cas." He hates lying, always has, but he doesn't want to deal with this right now. Wants to curl back up under his blankets and go to sleep and not dream, for once, but he knows that's not going to happen.

"Dean, would you like me to put you to sleep?"

Cracks a smile. Feels fake. "What, you mean Nyquil is one of your wacky angel powers?"

Cas blinks. "I don't get that reference."

Sighs and lays his head back down. "Yeah. Uh." Clears his throat. "Sleep would be pretty damn great, right about now, actually."

"Alright, Dean. I hope you feel better in the morning. If you need anything, I'm here to talk."

Opens his mouth to say something - but then Cas waves his hand and the world goes dark.

 

Wakes up curled against Cas's chest. Sucks in a breath. His heart's slamming like crazy against his chest and he's scared to move, afraid that this is all just a dream.

"Oh, good, you're awake. How do you feel?"

Pulls back and sits up. Runs a hand through his hair and swallows past the lump in his throat.

"Fine. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Cas's eyebrows are pinched together, and he's thoroughly unconvinced, But he's respecting Dean's space, not making him talk, letting him take things at his own pace.

Dean wishes that, just for once, Cas would force him to talk. It'd be a hell of a lot easier, he thinks, if he could just _say_ exactly what he feels - but he's never been good with emotions, and Cas isn't the best at being human (even if Dean thinks he's the most human out of any of them, sometimes), and Dean's got this gut-wrenching fear of hurting him. Cas is everything that's good in his life, besides Sammy, and Dean's not willing to risk that over some stupid crush.

"Yeah, I'm sure." His voice is a little rougher than he likes, but he's just going to have to deal with it. "Did you stay the whole night?"

"Of course." Cas says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You were upset. I couldn't leave you alone."

"I thought -" Clears his throat. "I thought Heaven needed you right now."

"One night won't hurt." Cas is smiling at him, all soft and gentle, and it's tearing at Dean's heart even more. He doesn't deserve this, this kind and thoughtful and beautiful angel. Doesn't deserve to be looked at like he's something special. He's not. He's fucked up, in too many ways to count, and it's slowly tearing him apart. He's got so much baggage - the thought of having a relationship, _now_ , is ridiculous. It's impossible to shake the dreams, the utter hopelessness that comes from knowing he was a demon. He's trying, though - trying damn hard to be the older brother that Sam deserves.

"Right." Clears his throat again and swings his legs over the side of the bed. "Well, you can help me cook breakfast. Pancakes okay for you?"

"Pancakes sound wonderful, Dean."

And - he's never going to get over the way Cas says his name. It's reverent, almost, and Dean's never been the religious type, but when Cas says his name it sounds like a prayer.

Damn it, he's too sober to deal with this.

He's just - he's going to walk into the kitchen, with Cas, and make pancakes like there's not a damn thing wrong in the world. He's going to cook food for Sam and joke around and pretend that last night never happened, because it needs to not happen again.

He's going to be okay.

Eventually.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a little late but I've started up my 100 days of writing prompts again with a friend. I'll be posting every other day, instead of every day, and should have far less schedule conflicts from here on out. Both Dulce and HON should be updated within the next couple of weeks.

_Dean's hands are covered in blood. The gun slips from his hands and clatters to the ground, deafening in the sudden silence. There's a body in front of him - Cas. Cas, who was just trying to protect him, to save him from himself. It's too late. Dean's pretty sure that Cas doesn't have enough angel mojo to come back from this, not when Dean's emptied an entire clip into his head._

_He's not even sure how it happened. The mark had started to burn, and then Cas had gotten in the way, and the next thing he remembers is standing over Cas's unmoving body with the gun clutched tight in his hand, almost burning him with how hot it felt. Falls to his knees and buries his face in his hands and starts to shake, tears coming faster than he can stop them._

Wakes with a start. There's something around his waist - struggles, for a moment, until Cas's voice rumbles in his ear -

"Dean. Relax."

Slumps back and swallows and leans his head against Cas's shoulder.

"How long have you been there."

"All night. I . . . wasn't sure if you'd need someone, after last night, and I -"

"Thanks."

It's not much, not even close to being enough, but he can almost feel Cas's smile. Can feel himself relax, a little, and sighs.

"What was your dream about?"

Oh, no. No, no, no. There's no way he can do this. No way he can tell Cas that - that he -

"You."

Fuck, what? That's _not_ what he meant to say. Cas sucks in a breath and goes still, and Dean has absolutely no idea what to say.

"Cas -"

"Dean -"

Dean falls silent. Pulls away from Cas's shoulder and sits up. Runs a hand through his hair and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Tries to stand - but then Cas’s fingers twine with his and tug him back down. Makes this surprised noise and ends up with his face pressed against Cas’s neck, tucked close to the angel’s body.

“You dreamed you killed me, didn’t you.”

It’s not a question, but Dean still feels like he has to answer.

“I - yeah.”

“Demon you.”

“Yeah.”

Cas is silent for a moment. “You’re not a demon anymore, Dean. Why is it still troubling you?”

Damn angels. Damn them for how hard it is to explain human things. Dean doesn’t know where the hell to begin explaining how messed up his head is.

“It’s - complicated, Cas. Just go, alright? I’m sure Heaven needs you more right now.” Presses his hands into the sheets so Cas can’t feel them shaking. Expects Cas to agree, to sit up and flash Dean his enchanting smile, and disappear in a rustle of wings.

“Heaven can wait, Dean. Please. I want to understand.”

His fists unclench and clench in the sheets as he tries to figure out what to say. Doesn’t have a clue where to begin.

“It’s - I can still _feel_ it, Cas. What it was like.” There’s a waver in his voice that _should not be there_ , and it’s killing him. Presses his face closer to Cas’s neck and tries to pretend that it’s only so he doesn’t have to look Cas in the eyes. Cas smells _good_ \- like the pancakes Dean made yesterday and of Heaven and of something so indescribably _Cas_. Takes a deep breath - and bites his lip when Cas shudders, ever so slightly, when Dean’s breath ghosts across his skin.

“Memories,” Cas says, and swallows audibly. “Right. I - is there something I can do to help, Dean? I do not like to see you hurting.”

“I’m fine.” Manages to push himself away from Cas and averts his eyes. “Don’t . . . don’t tell Sammy, okay? I don’t want him to worry. They’re just nightmares, I’m fine.”

Cas catches his hand again and brushes his thumb across Dean’s wrist. Dean’s pulse jumps like crazy, and he hopes for the briefest second that Cas can’t tell, but then Cas sucks in a breath and leans closer and Dean pulls away so fast the room spins. Makes it to the opposite wall and leans against it, trying to calm his pounding heart.

“Cas - Cas, no, I c-can’t.” Makes the mistake of looking at him - and he can’t look away, not when Cas is staring at him with that familiar unwavering intensity.

“Why?”

It’s a simple question, really, and Dean should know the answer - _should_ , but every reason he’s ever had for staying away from Cas has conveniently disappeared under Cas’s gaze. Swallows, and tries to make his legs move, to make his arms reach for Cas, but his limbs won’t work.

“Doesn’t Heaven need you?” he manages to spit out, face twisting at the thought of them taking Cas away from him. “Shouldn’t you be getting back?”

“You need me.” Cas’s lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile, and it’s enough to tug at Dean’s heart. “Heaven can wait, Dean. I want to help you.”

And Cas seems to understand his desperation, his need, because he reaches for Dean and pulls him into his arms. Tugs him back onto the bed and tangles their limbs together and runs his fingers through Dean’s hair and Dean tries his hardest to blink back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Dean, shh,” Cas soothes. “It’s okay. You’re not going to hurt me.”

There’s a choked sob - damn it, if this were anyone but Cas, Dean would never live this down. But it’s it’s _Cas_ , and Dean can maybe, just maybe, relax.

“Shh,” Cas murmurs. Doesn’t stop running his fingers through Dean’s hair as he pulls him closer, free arm wrapped around Dean’s waist. Dean never thought it was possible to fall any harder than he already has for this wonderful, fascinating, irritating angel - but then again, he’s never known what it’s like to spend a night in Cas’s arms, cradled like something precious and breakable. Fists his hands in Cas’s ever-present trench coat and presses as close as he can.

“Don’t leave,” he manages to croak.

“I’m not going to. Just relax, Dean. I’m right here.”

Chokes back another sob and hides his face in the collar of Cas’s trench coat. Cas’s hand moves from his hair to his back, rubbing small circles that ease some of the tension from his shoulders.

“Relax,” Cas repeats, and Dean finally nods. Yawns, a little, and shifts closer to Cas. Swallows past the fear lodged in his throat and thinks that maybe, just maybe, they can figure this out.

“I love you, Dean.”

It’s said softly, into his hair, almost shy with the way Cas tenses as Dean will pull away. And Dean almost does - but he’s spent too long fighting this, and he doesn’t want to anymore. There’s no need for words - presses a feather-light kiss to Cas’s cheek and wraps his arms around the angel’s body. Cas’s laugh is shaky and beautiful and shoots straight to Dean’s heart, spreading warmth through his veins and setting his skin on fire.

Yeah. Maybe this will work, after all.


End file.
